


Nation Builders

by DisproportionatelySmallBird



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Exploratory Work, Gen, Like, More Character Tags Added As Characters Join The Story, Post-Pacifist Ending, REALLY slow, Seriously Get Comfortable We're Gonna Be Here For A Long Long Time, Slow Burn, True Ending Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:13:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5148158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisproportionatelySmallBird/pseuds/DisproportionatelySmallBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were all free, now. The Barrier had been destroyed. </p><p>Of course, that wasn't to say that freedom was the end of the journey. No - it was only the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Holding On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk wants to stay, Toriel starts to plan for the future, and responsibilities are delegated to the monsters.

Toriel sighed, wistfully. Standing here, on the _surface_ , breathing in the fresh air in a way that hadn't been possible for centuries…

The light and warmth of the setting sun caused all her fears and all her concerns to melt away. Behind her, the cavern that housed the ornate stone archway connected to the Underground's palace garden seemed smaller and more insignificant than it had ever been. In this moment, she was filled with unconditional hope for the future.

The queen of all monsters knew, of course, that things wouldn't be quite so simple. Fifteen thousand monsters were no longer _trapped_ , per se, but the last thing anyone wanted or needed was for the sum total of all monster kind to descend on the nearest human settlement. Something like that could only be seen as an act of aggression, even when all they'd want to do is find a permanent home amongst humanity.

They'd need to negotiate with whoever or whatever constituted the ruling powers of this nation to secure sovereign territory surrounding the mountain before they could even consider co-location – and before they could do that, they'd need to learn more about the state of the world. You couldn't negotiate with groups you didn't even know of, after all. Certainly, though, these processes would take time.

In spite of this, she couldn't rightly ask her subjects for 'patience.' Not when the vast majority of them had never even seen the sun in all their lives, not when the freedom they'd been long denied was finally attainable. No, they had just as much of a right to this as she did. Even if for now, they could only go so far as the mountain itself and the forest that seemed to surround it, she would make sure that each and every monster had the choice to come up to the surface. Whatever human government happened to be in charge had no right to claim any part of this mountain, in any case.

Yes, there was much work to be done, Toriel thought to herself. Many plans to be made. And yet…

As she watched the collection of monsters that had accompanied her to the surface scatter across the mountain, spurred on by Papyrus declaring that he was off to make 'a great first impression,' she decided that planning could wait for now. At least for today, they could all just bask in their accomplishment, bathed in the light of the setting sun. Forming a plan and executing on it could wait for at least a few more hours.

Unbidden, her gaze turned to the only human present for miles. A tiny child, who couldn't have been more than twelve years old, who had been shouldered with an impossible burden and had somehow gone on to nearly-singlehandedly save all of monsterkind.

Frisk. Her heart ached for this child, and for the memories of her two children that she had lost so long ago. She knew, and she was somehow certain that they knew as well, of the legend surrounding this mountain. She'd learned it from one of the other humans that had fallen down, that she had cared for for a time.

_Those who climb Mount Ebott never return._

What could have possibly caused such an innocent, pure-hearted, selfless child as Frisk to feel compelled to climb a mountain like that?

Toriel wasn't sure she really wanted to know. If Frisk ever felt the need to tell her, she would be happy to listen – but she wouldn't ask them. No. All she really needed to know was…

“Frisk… You came from this world, right…? So you must have a place to return to, do you not? What will you do now?”

The way that they shook their head no, as the words “I want to stay with you” escaped their lips, threatened to break Toriel's heart in half.

But she couldn't let them see that, so she chose to smile instead.

“Frisk... you really are a funny child. If you had said that earlier, none of this would have happened. It is a good thing you took so long to change your mind. Hee hee hee. Well... I suppose. If you really do not have any other place to go... I will do my best to take care of you, for as long as you need. All right?”

She offered Frisk her paw, smiling once more as they took hold of it, and fighting back the urge to cry or curse whoever had damaged this child so as she pretended not to hear them when they whispered 'okay, Mom' under their breath. No child should have latched on to a member of an entirely different species so readily.

Still… the thought of being a mother again…

“Now, come along.” Slowly, she led Frisk away from the cavern, and down the path that Papyrus and the others had run off on. There was much to be done, for both the monster kingdom, and for this child that had quite literally fallen into her life and made themselves comfortably at home in it.

This was fine. Everything was going to be alright.

 

~ ~ ~

 

It was clear from the state of the mountain's surface that, eight fallen humans notwithstanding, the legends surrounding Mount Ebott had been an effective deterrent. The many and varied plants adorning the mountainside had been allowed to grow unchecked for centuries, and whatever path that might have once lead to the Underground's only exit had been long since worn away by time. In its place, natural ridges and cuts in the mountain's side formed a harsh, winding, and narrow path down the side of the mountain, overgrown with the trees and brush that seemed to be abundant in this part of the surface. To say nothing of the sort of challenge that Frisk must have faced scaling this mountain, simply getting down would've proven to have been a difficult trial…

...were it not for the fact that as monsters, magic came to them as easily as breathing. As it stood, Toriel idly noted the precise moment in their journey down that Asgore had apparently given up on trying to be subtle and had instead simply begun burning down anything that had been in his way, for that had been the point that Toriel was able to stop utilizing her own fire magic to blaze a trail for herself and Frisk, relying instead on simply following in Asgore's wake.

It hadn't taken long at all after that moment to catch up with the rest of the group of monsters, helped no doubt by how exhausted Asgore appeared to be when Toriel did finally catch up.

“Oh my. This mountain is certainly a treacherous climb. Perhaps it would be better if we came up with a plan, instead of simply rushing headlong down it and hoping for the best?”

“YOUR MAJESTY!” Papyrus called out in response. “ACTUALLY, THE KING HAD DECIDED MUCH THE SAME THING! MY GREAT FIRST IMPRESSION WILL JUST HAVE TO WAIT.”

Toriel smiled, in spite of herself. For a moment, she'd been worried that she might have had to actually convince the others to slow down and think things through.

“For now, let us return to the gateway. We can watch the rest of the sunset, and then determine our next moves. Does everyone agree?”

Everyone else was quick to agree with this. Fortunately, they hadn't gotten terribly far away from the cavern that they had emerged from, and it was a relatively short walk back. As it turned out, the sunset was every bit as beautiful no matter which angle you approached it from. She watched, silently, as the setting sun slowly fell beneath the horizon. How poetic. This would be the final time the sun set on the world as it was before. The long war was at last over, and tomorrow, the sun would rise on an era of peace and prosperity for both monsters and humanity.

The queen tore her eyes away from the picturesque scenery long enough to glance down at Frisk, who had yet to let go of her paw. She didn't mind. The child – her child, if they would have her – seemed to be radiating with happiness and contentment. As it should be. The only reason Toriel was here at all, the only reason any monster was breathing in surface air right now, was because of Frisk. All of monster kind now owed them a debt that could never be repaid. Ensuring that their life from this point forward was a good one, no matter what had befallen them before… it was the absolute least that she could do.

Finally, the last light from the setting sun faded beneath the horizon. It was time to get to work.

“Now, then. We have a lot to do, and very little time to do it in. The next few hours will be critical, and it is just as critical that we all have a clear understanding of our responsibilities.”

“Does this mean that you're…?” Asgore started, then trailed off abruptly. That old fool never could help himself, Toriel mused, but there was no sense in putting it off any longer. If they were to have any hope of doing this the right way, it would need to be official.

“It does,” Toriel sighed, more for show than anything else. “I am reclaiming my throne and title. But do not think that this means that I have forgiven you, Asgore. This is an official formality and nothing more.”

“I understand, Toriel.” The way that he had to practically choke out that final syllable suggested he didn't understand, but at least he'd stopped using her pet name.

With Queen Toriel Dreemurr now officially restored to her position, the first order of business was reversing an extremely poor decision that had been made in the heat of the moment.

“Undyne. I cannot accept your resignation; the Royal Guard will not be disbanding.”

“But the war's over, right?!” Undyne started, in protest. “Nobody needs to fight anymore, right?!”

“That's correct, and because the war is over, we no longer need a sword with which to cut down our enemies. However. If that had been the primary purpose of the Royal Guard, we would never have named it such.”

Toriel smiled slightly.

“The Royal Guard once stood as a great shield to defend the people with. With the war over, that will become the Guards' focus once again. Instead of hunting down stray humans, your new responsibilities are to ensure the safety of monsterkind, and to ensure that the laws of the land are respected. Do you understand?”

A moment of silence, and then… “I got it. Alright then! If you want a shield, I'll make sure that my crew is the best shield you've ever seen! You can count on me!”

“I'm pleased to hear it.” For a number of reasons, not the least of which being that she was not looking forward to having to explore Plan B. The Hammer of Justice had earned his retirement, after all. It would've been unpleasant for everyone to try and convince him to come back into service.

“Oh!” Undyne gasped, having apparently just realized something. “Uh, Toriel- Your Majesty? I still have appointment authority, yeah?”

“Toriel will be fine. And yes, you do, within reason. What were you thinking?”

Undyne whirled around to face Papyrus instead. “PAPYRUS! After everything we've been through, there's no more doubt in my mind! I had been worried, you know. Combat training only gets you so far!! I had to know how you would've handled yourself under real pressure, amongst enemies. And, guess what, punk? You passed the test!! With flying colors!!”

“THEN, UNDYNE??” Papyrus could barely keep the smile off of his face.

“THAT'S RIGHT! Welcome to the Royal Guard!!”

“WOWIE! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! AFTER ALL THIS TIME… I'M FINALLY A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD! TRULY, THIS IS THE BEST POSSIBLE ENDING.”

It warmed Toriel's heart to see. Still, though, now that the darkness of night was falling on the mountain, they were running out of time if she'd hoped to get everyone a proper night's rest.

Moving on, then. It was time to properly deal with the most recent Royal Scientist.

“Alphys. You understand why I had to fire you. Regardless of the merits of your experiments, or the fact that the king saw fit to order such experimentation at all… the fact remains that you lied, covered up the results, and all but locked yourself away to avoid confronting the truth. I'm glad that you finally chose to come clean, but regardless, you can no longer be trusted to lead the kingdom's scientific endeavors. I will not be re-appointing you to the position of Royal Scientist.”

“I… I understand.” Alphys was quiet, her gaze firmly fixed on what must have been an extremely fascinating patch of dirt. And then, even quieter, “I wouldn't… trust me, either.”

“I am not finished. Alphys, look at me.”

Toriel waited for Alphys to meet her gaze before continuing, taking another moment to note how much the other woman looked like a convict about to be lead to the slaughter. Well. That wouldn't do at all. Prior indiscretions or no, Toriel still needed Alphys. The kingdom was too small and the talent too thin to waste anyone, and especially not someone with her mind for both technology and human culture.

“You are an exceptionally talented, intelligent, and capable young woman. Your previous sins are not nearly enough to outweigh that. We've been locked away for centuries – our only source of information about the outside world has been, prior to this point, whatever garbage ended up thrown into the Underground itself. That leaves us at a terrible disadvantage, one that needs to be corrected as soon as possible. From what I understand, you have a passion for human culture, and your abilities with modern technology are unparalleled.”

Toriel took another moment. Fear was still the predominant emotion that she saw in the dinosaur monster's eyes, but she also saw the faintest traces of hope.

“I'm appointing you to be the first ever Royal Anthropologist. As Royal Anthropologist, it falls to you to gather as much information as you can about the state of the world we find ourselves in, and our newfound neighbors in particular. I imagine humanity's internet will be of great assistance in that task, and I have no doubt that you will have our communications infrastructure connected to theirs in no time at all.”

“We're depending on you, Alphys.”

“R-right!! I won't let you down!! You can count on me!!” Alphys sounded more like she was trying to convince herself of that, rather than anyone else. Hopefully, she would be able to convince herself of that on her own, without any intervention needed.

Asgore… knew what his role was. She had no doubt that he'd fall right back into it easily enough. Back before she had left, she had always been the brains of the monarchy, and he had been the heart. Where she excelled at just what she was doing now – planning and organizing – it was always Asgore who was the approachable face, he who inspired the masses and connected to them. She wrote speeches, and she delivered parts of them when it was prudent to do so, but it was he who truly breathed life into her words, and brought crowds to life.

'King Fluffybuns,' indeed.

They'd made a good couple, before. And they should at least make for functional coworkers, again.

Toriel glanced down at Frisk, then, decided it would be better not to have them craning their neck upwards for this next conversation.

So she dropped to her knees, coming level with Frisk's eyes, and then began to speak softly.

“Frisk.” It was adorable and tragic how quickly they snapped to attention at her words.

“I want you to know that we already owe you more than all the kingdom could ever repay, for what you've done for us. We have no right to demand any more of you than what you've already given. So, please. Be assured that I will not be disappointed no matter how you answer this question. Do not feel pressured to answer one way or another, or even to answer at all right now. We have time enough to wait for you. Frisk… do you truly wish to act as our ambassador?”

She'd barely even finished her question before Frisk responded with a resounding 'yes.' She didn't quite know how, but she could feel a sense of sincerity backing their answer. In her heart, she felt that they truly wanted this responsibility, and she was pleased.

Truth be told, they hadn't any real backup options for ambassador, but if Frisk hadn't wanted the role… she would've come up with something. It was nice to know that she didn't have to come up with something. A curious sense of relief, tinged with deja vu, washed over her.

“Very well, then.” Toriel made no attempt to get up just get. Instead, her voice got even softer. She'd have shooed off the others if there had been an opportunity to do so. “I have one more thing to ask of you… Frisk. If you would have me, I would like to call you 'my child.' Will you allow me to adopt you into our family?”

Again, the way they so readily agreed threatened to break her heart. Thus, she chose to focus on happier things instead. Pulling her child – _her child_ – into a tight hug, adding 'Royal Adoption Ceremony' to the list of upcoming events for the monster kingdom, savoring this connection that felt at once new and impossibly old. She'd been right. It felt good to be a mother, again.

The moment couldn't last forever, though. She still had responsibilities to see to. So, with a final “thank you,” she reluctantly let go of Frisk and stood up to face the other monsters again.

Well. There were a few more roles that needed filling, but those were positions she didn't have candidates for… or, in one case, her prime candidate had run away, as though not being in her immediate presence would save him from being assigned actual work.

She supposed now would be a good time to go track Mettaton down…

No. Putting this off any longer would only make it worse, she reminded herself. Steeling her resolve for a confrontation, she turned to Sans.

Alphys had disqualified herself, but the Royal Scientist position could not go unfilled.

And there was only one other monster alive or dead who was qualified for that role.

“Now then, before we adjourn for the night, there's one more thing we need to discuss.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

He really should've known that his luck would not hold out. This timeline had been proceeding a little too smoothly, so it was only a matter of time before something came along to remind him that there were no happy endings. Not for Sans, anyway. Perhaps for other people.

He'd expected another reset, or a confrontation with the darker elements of humanity, or perhaps some sort of natural disaster that apparently struck the surface every so often, flooding the Underground with more than its normal share of trash. 'Hurricanes,' he thought they were called. That's what some of the more legible newspapers had called them, anyway.

But of all the things or people he'd expected to steal this happy ending from him, never would he have guessed that Toriel – his friend behind the doorway turned out to be the long-lost Queen – would be the one.

The words she spoke struck him like ice. “There's one more thing we need to discuss. Sans?”

He knew. He'd known since the moment she'd chosen to assign Alphys to a role that wasn't even remotely science-like that this was coming.

And he was not going to look at Toriel, not even for a second.

There was an awful lot of foliage to admire, up here on the surface. The trees were done up in all kinds of beautiful colors. Like everything else on the surface, it wasn't stale with the accumulated deja vu of a thousand aborted timelines that he'd known-yet-not he'd been subjected to. It was much easier to focus on that than on his impending doom.

“someone's gotta keep morale up, right? nothing stops progress faster than a bunch of sad faces. well, it's a tougher crowd than i'm used to entertaining, but i kinda like the sound of royal jester. your majesty, i would be honored to-”

“I'd like you to assume the role and responsibilities of Royal Scientist, effective immediately.”

And there it was. Toriel wasn't stupid, and even with everything that had happened as a result of the Core Incident, she would've had enough information to connect the dots and figure out who he really was. Why she hadn't figured out exactly why tasking him with that cursed position was a bad idea – hell, why having a Royal Scientist at all was a bad idea – that he couldn't say.

“...they can't all be winners, but that was a pretty lousy joke, tori.”

“I wasn't joking, Sans.”

 _of course you weren't._ “ welp.”

“Past unpleasantness aside,” And wasn't that just the most politely-understated description for half of what the Royal Scientist position had ended up responsible for? It was a good thing that children were present. “The Royal Scientists have also contributed and will continue to contribute a great deal of value to our kingdom through the good work that they oversee.”

Yeah. Sure. Good work. Let's see, there was the Core, which played a part in killing someone so completely that nearly their entire past was nullified – that was sure worth saving some money on the cost of power generation – and then there was… Nope. Couldn't think of anything else. Wonder why that was. 

“the 'good work' that is no longer necessary. we're _out_ , tori. nothing that's been taken on by that office in the past eighty years is relevant anymore.” That was a bold-faced lie, but of the two people here in a position to know that, one of them was an entirely too innocent kid who hadn't even hit puberty yet and the other was desperately trying to find a way out from under this guillotine.

“You'd have us stagnate completely, then?”

“'course not. there's a whole world of scientists out there, they won't mind us piggy-backing on their research.” Hell, Sans would bet good money that it wouldn't take much more than a promise to cross-train some bright young human minds in (harmless) magical theories to have the humans' universities falling all over themselves to make room in their dorms for monsters on an exchange program.

“And how do you propose we do that with no Scientist to direct our end of any cooperatives? Just throw any monster with a sharper mind than most out into the world with no formal training, and hope for the best from humanity? We both know better than that.”

“sounds more like you need a royal teacher than a royal scientist.” Yeah, that was good. Toriel had confessed to him, during one of their many conversations, that she'd always wanted to teach. She'd make a great shepherd for all those bright young minds, so let her handle it. Problem solved, no more Royal Scientist necessary.

Too bad she clearly wasn't biting. “I understand that you're angry, that you're scared of what this could mean. But I was there too, Sans. I remember just as clearly as you what happened.” 

_no, you really don't. you don't have to live with_ all of this – _not like I do._

“We can stop that from ever happening again, but it's going to take work. It's going to take steady leadership.”

“come on, tori. you know me well enough to know that 'steady' and 'leader' aren't really words that get used in descriptions of me.”

“I know you well enough to know that you put a great deal of effort into making sure that you can say that and mean it.”

Yeah, and right up until today, it had been working out really well, too. 

“look, tori – your majesty. sorry, but the answer's no. you're just gonna have to find someone else.” Sans finally turned to face Toriel, and let the light fade from his eyes to complete the effect. He had no illusions that his spooky scary skeleton bit would actually _work_ on the queen of all monsters, but it didn't need to. She just had to know he was serious.

“There _is nobody else_.” Toriel shot back, a fire in her voice that wasn't there before. Well. Guess he wasn't the only one with a scary affectation to put on. “We need you.”

Sans watched her gaze fall to the newly-adopted royal child, who seemed to be completely engrossed in their verbal tennis match, and he knew that it was all over. 

_don't say it, don't say it, please don't say it…_

“Frisk needs you.”

 _damn._ “ heh heh. couldn't even tell it as a joke, eh?” 

“Neither you nor I would ever joke about that child's safety.”

“welp, you got me. all right. i'll take the job. here's hoping neither of us comes to regret this.”

Toriel was grinning like the cat that had caught the canary. He would bet anything that behind him somewhere, his cool brother was grinning too. Yeah, Papyrus would love this. No more boondoggling, not for Sans. Gone were the simple days of a separate union-regulated break for each and every one of his sentry postings. His lazy bones only had one job now, and worse yet, it actually mattered. Well, that's what he loved the most about his brother. He'd be enthusiastic and happy enough for the both of them, no matter what.

Guess it was time to dig up those old lab coats, again. 

 

~ ~ ~

 

By this time, night had completely fallen over the surface.

It was, in many ways, even more beautiful than the sunset had been. Above them the clear skies glittered with a million tiny points of starlight, and below them the nocturnal animals that lived on the mountain and in the forests surrounding it provided a pleasant background noise – the sounds of owls hooting and insects chirping. The sterile and artificial “night” that had been cultivated in Waterfall through careful manipulation of its magical climate simply couldn't compare to the real thing. 

It almost made up for the fact that Toriel could barely even see her paw in front of her own face, and for the fact that the stars were only visible at all to her for how bright they were in the sky. 

Sources of natural light were extremely hard to come by in the Underground. The Barrier, by its nature as a one-way portal, let light in just as easily as it let anything else in. The Royal Gardens had been planted so close to the gateway for just that reason – so that a collection of flowers from the surface could be allowed to grow, undistorted by the magic they'd needed to grow anything anywhere else in their kingdom. Asgore had always spoken fondly of those particular flowers – of the idea that the people could come and enjoy even a small taste of the surface whenever they liked. Those flowers were a reminder of what they'd had access to once before, and would one day have access to again.

Other than the gateway, however, entrances to the Underground were all but unheard of. There was the hole that had somehow opened up above the Ruins, into which eight humans had fallen, and under which a bed of golden flowers had eventually grown. It was in many ways the exception that proved a rule. Whatever other openings formed in the mountain's surface as a product of erosion from time or weather never got larger than the tips of Toriel's nails – hardly useful as a source of light, or anything else. Even the cleverly-named “Trash Zone” in Waterfall received humanity's waste through means that had never been clearly explained to Toriel, beyond not involving some other opening in the mountain. One of the previous Royal Scientists had explained that the trash wasn't actually falling into the Underground so much as it was somehow getting sucked in by the Barrier, but she hadn't been able to understand the precise mechanics of it and hadn't honestly cared beyond assurances that they'd cast their own magic to keep the phenomenon contained to the dump and nobody needed worry about a pleasant afternoon in the Capital becoming interrupted by a spontaneous rain of garbage.

Of course, nobody could actually stand to live in perpetual darkness without suffering ill effects. So, like with a great many things in the Underground, where they'd lost access to a natural resource once taken for granted, they'd had to devise replacement systems with which they could make do instead. That had come in the form of the artificial light cycle, a complicated network of physical light sources and a magical luminescence that had been integrated into the entire landscape of Underground. It could never hope to replace the light of the true sun, and so it didn't even try. Instead, every light source in the Underground itself naturally brightened or dimmed throughout the 'day,' becoming dark enough during the agreed-upon night time hours to encourage sleep, but never entirely 'off.' Certain magical climates had been made brighter or darker than the neutral level of light suffusing the Capital, so as to allow those who preferred differing levels of light to move into an environment that better suited them, but nowhere in the Underground could ever be said to experience true darkness.

It wasn't surprising, then, that centuries of living under such a system had taken what little night vision Toriel had had to begin with. They'd been lucky that there was not even a single cloud in the sky tonight, but not lucky enough that they'd have any light from the moon to guide them. Coming back to the gateway first had been the right decision. 

She made a note to herself to figure out if there was any magic or technology they already had for night vision, and to have Sans work on coming up with something in the extremely likely event that there wasn't.

In the meantime, there was nothing left for them to do on the surface tonight. Nothing they really could do, even, were she not inclined to make sure that everyone got a good night's sleep before the hard work truly began. Making any progress would have been difficult to impossible in this complete natural darkness.

“Then, if everyone is clear on their responsibilities, let us return to the Underground. There will be much work to be done tomorrow, and it is important that we are all well rested for the challenges ahead.” 

Fortunately, the artificial light cycle had at least ensured that the light of the Underground was visible through the gateway, and so Toriel was able to turn and focus on it.

“We shall open up the guest rooms in the palace so that nobody has to stray too far from the surface. I imagine they're all still in good working order, Asgore?” 

“Of course.”

“Very well. Let us be off, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, friends, to _Nation Builders_!
> 
> I've been wanting to start in on a project like this for a while now, and was encouraged to do so by my friends. Shout out to you all, this monster's at least partially dedicated to you. The goal of this story is to sort of answer the question of just how the monster-human integration process went down, and in that respect, it's going to be really slow - the process of actually connecting to another society takes a lot of time and a lot of effort, after all. There will be royal family and friends fluff, of course, but for the most part, this is going to be a story about making a place for yourself in the world.
> 
> Thank you for reading it. I sincerely hope you continue to enjoy this story as it progresses.


	2. Groundwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mettaton has a new job, announcements are made, and the hard work can at last begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine it's fairly obvious in spite of my attempts to introduce a natural break point in the middle, but this was originally part of Chapter 1. I had decided that 5000 words or so was a good target in terms of chapter length, though - and this quickly got too big for me to really consider doing anything other than splitting it in half. I actually had to struggle to keep this from turning into a three-part premiere.

As the central seat of government in the entire Underground, no expense had been spared in the construction of the palace.

It was a towering monolith, carved from the very wall of the mountain that they had been imprisoned under. Symbolic of the strength of monster kind, and of defiance against the ones who had sealed them away; a promise that they would thrive no matter what fate befell them, and a reminder that something beautiful could be made from the ruins of even the worst disasters.

Monsters would always overcome. That was the message that Asgore wanted his palace to convey.

So when they'd outgrown their first Home, and had to expand the Underground to accommodate a growing population of monsters, they had deliberately sought out the point where the Barrier originated from. And when they found that ornate gateway, they'd made it the focal point of their own project. Asgore had planted seeds from the surface around the exit, establishing his Royal Gardens, and declared that he would rule from there, the closest point to the surface. The rest of the palace had grown outwards and downwards from the Throne Room, and outwards from the palace walls, the monsters' New Home had risen.

Throughout this whole project, he'd taken care to ensure that the palace was always just as much for his subjects as it was for the Royal Family. Each and every level of the palace had an exit into the capital, and the monsters all knew that those doors would be opened to any and all who asked. And for a time, all was good. Asgore lived in the palace with his darling wife Tori- _Toriel_ , and his two children, one his by blood and one that had (eventually, reluctantly, for they'd never been entirely comfortable with the notion) become his in spirit.

Even remembering just their names was painful enough, so Asgore would not.

And after they had perished, long before their time, Asgore had grieved, and the kingdom grieved with him. So vast and all-consuming were his anger and his despair, that he had declared the resumption of hostilities. Any more humans to fall into the Underground would be put to the sword of the Royal Guard, and with seven stolen souls, they would break free of this prison and make the humans suffer as they had been made to suffer in turn.

His foolish and miserable actions that day had cost him his wife, as well.

Eventually, his anger faded, and he was left with only his despair. By then, living in the palace had become unbearable, surrounded by the reminders of his losses. Wherever he turned, there was another memory to torment him. Here he heard echoes of children's laughter, there the sweet nothings whispered between the King and his Queen. In every room, the reminders of a naïve hope for a peaceful future of co-existence, the hope that had been stolen away, that he'd thought lost forever.

So he'd built himself a cottage at the end of the road that had lead out from the Royal Gardens, and filled it with whatever mementos he could bear to take with him from the palace, so as to make believe that a real family lived in that home, rather than a broken king who'd lost everything dear to him. Then, he'd sealed the palace nearly completely. Only the Royal Gardens remained open, and with the lower levels sealed, the only way to access them was by the road that Asgore had built his cottage on, and through that home itself.

Until a few short hours ago, the king had expected that the rest of the palace would remained sealed forever. What need was there to ever unseal it? The kingdom functioned perfectly without access to any of the more esoteric or dangerous items that had been kept exclusively within the palace, and without the king himself dwelling in it, there was no need to keep up appearances. It could stand in silent testament to what he and they had all lost, empty like the rest of the Underground would be after he'd taken the last necessary soul…

…from Frisk.

That child was truly something special, weren't they? It couldn't have been more than a few hours since he'd received the first reports of the Ruins door opening again, disgorging a human into the Underground for the seventh and final time. Since that had happened, they'd somehow brought Toriel back from her self-imposed exile, somehow united every single soul Underground long enough to shatter the Barrier like so much fragile glass, and somehow now stood ready to lead monster kind back out to the Surface in peace. Despite everything that had happened, this child had almost effortlessly fallen into their lives and brought true hope into the Underground with them. Nobody else had needed to die, after all.

How he had ever expected to actually contain that child's soul even had he managed to capture it, he was not certain.

It didn't matter now, in any case. There was work to be done, he knew, and he knew that his estranged wife had been right when she said that they'd needed a plan. A real plan, and if he was being honest, he hadn't had one of those even when the plan _was_ still simply to wipe humanity off of the surface with a concentrated mass of soul power. So here they were, unsealing the palace again. Here he was, hanging his head in shame as he felt more than saw Toriel's judgmental glare boring into his back.

'How dare you seal the palace like this,' she might have said, were she not focused more on getting her child and her Council squared away for the night. 'What happened to all those impressive words about a palace for the people?'

Instead, she swept past him the second the doors were open, taking the lead as effortlessly as she always had. “The living quarters are this way. Come along, everyone. We will _unseal_ the rest of the facilities in the morning.”

The way she practically hissed out that word was all that had stopped him from pretending, at least in this moment, that everything had gone back to normal.

It hadn't stopped him from hoping, as they walked, that things one day would go back to normal. Already, so much of his reality had been changed in a matter of hours. Perhaps reconciling would take longer than that, but he was determined to make things right again.

No matter how long it took.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Toriel had been perfectly capable of unsealing the entire palace herself, were she inclined to do so. In truth, she had never _truly_ abdicated her throne, nor officially broken with Asgore, and so the palace had recognized her as queen just as it always did.

She was not inclined to unseal any more of the palace than she had to for what she wanted to do. Asgore wouldn't learn anything if he wasn't made to confront the reality of what he'd been doing for the past several decades, wouldn't learn anything from 'Tori' riding in and fixing everything.

And, if she was allowing herself to be perfectly honest, now that Frisk was tucked away in a real bed and most of the new Royal Council were picking their own rooms from the wealth of options in a palace that hadn't seen a single soul since probably the night she had run off…

She wasn't entirely blameless in this, either. She could have talked him down, or – if it had come to that – taken the first soul and crossed the barrier herself once the damage was already done. Anything, really, would have likely produced a better outcome than fleeing into the Ruins in a grief-ridden huff and letting Asgore reap the fruits of his own poor choices.

Knowing that was one thing, but letting go of decades of resentment was something else entirely. She was nowhere near ready to simply forgive him – after all, the king still bore the brunt of the blame here. Still had the blood of six other children on his hands. Had he not picked such awful coping mechanisms, things might have turned out quite differently, and it might not have taken a miracle to get them all freed without any further violence.

No, she wouldn't forgive, but for the sake of the kingdom, she would move on.

The elevator doors groaned open, fighting to shake off the decades of disuse, and Toriel stepped out into the lowest level of the Capital, where the river that connected all of the Underground ran through. It didn't matter that nobody had used this dock for a long time, either. The Riverperson was somehow already there, waiting for Toriel.

“Tra la la. Where shall we go today, your majesty?”

“Take me to Waterfall.”

“Then, we're off...”

The Royal Council wasn't complete yet, after all. Frisk would be able to handle winning over politicians and diplomats, but that was only half of the battle. The monsters would need to win over the hearts and minds of the people, as well, and in a way not at all suited for the Ambassador's role. She had the utmost faith in Frisk's ability to spread the ideals of peaceful coexistence, but they wouldn't be content to simply 'coexist' with humanity. They wanted to become a part of society. They needed monsters to be ever-present in the public consciousness, to become a part of human culture, and for human culture to blend with the culture of the monsters. All of this was far more than she could ask of any Ambassador, even one with Frisk's potential. No, they'd need a celebrity for that. Someone with a magnetic personality, who lived and breathed for the spotlight, and whom the people would fall in love with.

And Toriel had just the monster in mind.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Mettaton felt a chill run down his spine.

It was a curious sensation, but not an entirely unwelcome one. After all, these sorts of sensations were the proof that he was alive. That he wasn't just a ghost in a box, but an actual living, functional being.

It was beautiful. _He_ was beautiful. Doctor Alphys had really outdone herself, and he'd had a really lousy way of thanking her for it, hadn't he? Co-opting her plan and trying to murder Frisk, to take their soul for his own and cross the barrier with it. And for such a selfish reason, too! For all his big talk about wanting to protect humanity from Asgore, really, all he'd wanted to do was see his name up in lights on _the_ Broadway, to perform in front of a live audience that wasn't quite literally _captive_.

After all, as Frisk had forced him to realize during their fight-turned-performance, the Underground had nobody other than him. He was their one and only star, the robot that had been purpose built to entertain. He'd had no choice but to back down at that point, and that is absolutely how the inevitable movie script would tell his portion of Frisk's story. There would not be even a single mention of the words 'failure,' 'untested,' or 'couplings' – and certainly, not in that order. Doctor Alphys had fixed that issue shortly after their fight, anyway.

And while she had been performing the final touch-ups on his body, Frisk had gone right on through to Asgore, and they had done something that still seemed impossible in spite of the proof that had been etched into some small part of the soul of every single monster.

 _The Barrier had been destroyed._ They were all out! Finally, his dream could come true! He'd take his film crew and make a triumphant exit out from that gate, he'd march down the humans' red carpets and right into their hearts, hundreds of millions of adoring fans would…

Would…

…they wouldn't even know who he was, would they? No. They had thousands of stars of their own, and he was just another monster gone free from the Underground. He'd be lucky to get air time on even one of their hundreds of television channels. It would be a far, far cry from the days of being the only source of media in the Underground not imported directly from the Trash Zone.

The thought was almost unbearable. He'd be going straight back to nothing, and this time, he wouldn't have the advantage of his only competition being _yesterday's news_.

He hadn't stuck around when the future Royal Council had been worrying over Frisk, because he'd had to see to Blooky. That was another relationship he'd done a wonderful job of mishandling, after all. And, conveniently enough, his team had just found a few openings on sound! Mettaton would only work with the best, so he'd just had to go and personally extend the offer. Immediately. There was no way it could have waited long enough for him to be among the first monsters to set sights on the Surface in centuries. And Mettaton was not entirely selfish. He couldn't dream of asking the effective monster government to _hold off_ on their surface expedition long enough for him to come back, with or without Blooky in tow. Besides, his exit from the Underground was absolutely an event worth filming, and as with anything worth filming, there would be prep work, and a dress rehearsal, and it would all be quite more involved than just following a child out past a gate.

Oh, who was he kidding? He was terrified, and he'd run away, and he was continuing to invent excuses for why he couldn't just go out there. There was only one real reason why he hadn't gone out there yet, and it was because he was _scared_.

Scared of facing the reality of his situation. Scared of acknowledging his worst fears were true. Down here and in his head, he could still believe that the humans were just waiting to roll out the red carpet for him. Up there, the silence would be deafening.

That was alright, though. He _was_ the media in the Underground, and so he knew that the government had yet to make an official announcement. He knew that they wouldn't wait much longer than they already had, since there was only so much time before the public would start to get antsy, but until they said or did anything, Mettaton was free to remain here with his thoughts and his fears.

As an added bonus, since the easiest way to get a broadcast out to the Underground as a whole was through Mettaton, he stood a good chance of being the first one to know once the government did start to move on this.

In fact… if his eyes weren't deceiving him, wasn't that the returned Queen Toriel Dreemurr striding up to his home?

“Ah, Mettaton. There you are.” The Queen called out to him. Odd. There was that chill again. Perhaps he'd pay Doctor Alphys another visit after this?

“There's something I'd like to talk to you about. I'm sure that you're very busy with preparing for your grand debut on the surface, but if you have a few moments?”

The way she'd spoken let him know that it hadn't actually been a question. “Of course! I'm never too busy for a conversation with one of my adoring fans.”

“That's wonderful to hear.” Was that feeling getting worse? There was almost a sort of crawling on his back. He'd definitely need to see the Doctor as soon as possible. “You see, we intend to join human society completely. We will not simply remain quiet and isolated, and we will not be content to merely exist in the shadows. Not when we have so much to offer in terms of our history, our achievements, or our culture.”

Mettaton wouldn't say it aloud, but he didn't like where this conversation was going.

“You are, of course, the Underground's premiere celebrity, and your brand is unparalleled. There is nobody more qualified to take the lead on matters concerning cultural outreach than you, nobody who I would consider nearly as capable of establishing and holding our share of the surface media market. It would be my pleasure to appoint you to the Royal Publicist position.”

A feeling of primal dread settled over the robot. He hadn't even been able to find it in himself to leave for the surface for his own sake, and now all this? Never mind that she had a point. Suddenly, he realized that keeping such an iron grip on the Underground's media market had completely backfired on him.

All was not lost, though. He just had to let her down easy, subtly point her at somebody else. That kid he'd had slinging glamburgers had always rambled on to anyone who listened about his dreams of acting! Mettaton didn't think he had the presence for it, but adversity does have a way of drawing out a monster's hidden talents. “Why, your majesty! I'm certainly flattered, but-”

Toriel cut him off abruptly. “Ah, before you decline, I'd like to discuss the benefits of accepting this position. In addition to the quite generous salary of a Royal Councillor that you would be entitled to, of course, the kingdom is more than willing to allow you to retain full control of your brand rights and your broadcasting equipment, and we will make whatever resources you need available to help smooth the transition into the wider universe outside of this mountain. And, perhaps most immediately beneficial to you, you would receive forgiveness for certain past… _transgressions_."

Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Such as your attempt to _murder a child on live television_.”

He didn't have a choice, did he? No. It didn't matter that he knew for a fact that no less than half the Royal Council was similarly guilty of attempted child murder, along with a number of the citizenry, and it certainly didn't matter that there were extenuating circumstances. It probably didn't even matter that the child in question had forgiven them all, even as they saved them all.

He was the only one who'd tried to make a spectacle of it, and for that, he would now pay dearly.

“I… I suppose I have no choice, then…”

“Wonderful!” Toriel smiled brightly, as though she hadn't just threatened to completely ruin him in retribution for an admittedly crass ratings grab that had nonetheless succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. “Then this matter is settled. Well, I won't be taking up any more of your time tonight. Certainly, you must have a lot more preparation to do! I'll leave you to it.”

She spun on her heel and began to stride away. “See you tomorrow morning, Mettaton.” She'd said to him as she left, in a tone of voice that suggested dire consequences were he not knocking on the palace doors at the very moment the Underground as a whole considered to be the start of 'morning.'

Well. He was no longer quite so afraid of how the surface would receive him, at least.

That was worth something, right?

 

~ ~ ~

 

The first and only time it had ever been done in their history, expansion of the Underground had proven to be a relatively straightforward undertaking for the monsters. Logistically complex, yes, but straightforward.

At the end of the day, the Underground's true nature was just that of an exceptionally large cavern hollowed out within Mount Ebott. Whatever else could be said about the Underground was a product of the monsters, of monster magic, and of the Barrier that had been cast over the mountain itself. Expanding the Underground, then, had started with the simple act of digging.

And dig they had! Deeper towards the core of the world, higher towards where the mountain's peak must surely have been, outwards in every direction. Toriel still remembered it vividly. Hundreds of monsters, some seemingly born for this work, others struggling but determined to contribute in whatever way they possibly could. And as they had continued to dig, they had improved on their techniques, making the tools and the magic more accessible to more and more monsters.

It was almost a shame when they had found what they had been looking for, and focus had shifted from the act of digging to the act of making something useful from the caverns they had left behind. Had that not happened, they might have eventually hollowed out the entire mountain to its every corner.

As it stood, years of magical and scientific advancement did not simply fade away. One of the ruling principles of the Underground was that nothing was discarded, after all. They couldn't afford to simply throw away anything, especially not knowledge. So every single achievement ever made by monster kind was recorded, stored, and catalogued _somewhere_.

It was understandable, then, that so much of the palace was devoted to storage space. The Royal Library alone accounted for an entire wing of the palace, and it was notoriously difficult to find anything in its halls quickly.

Decades of running on automation thanks entirely to a certain goat's bitter sentimentality had not helped the situation down here, either. The Library, when they'd gotten to it, had proven to be a mess. A perfectly preserved mess, free of the damage that might otherwise have been wrought by time, but a mess all the same.

Sorting all of this mess out had been made the first order of business for the morning. It was a good thing that they had had breakfast _before_ coming down here.

“I had expected something like this,” Toriel sighed to herself.

“All right.” She turned to the rest of the assembled Royal Council. “We are looking for everything related to the Expansion Effort, particularly any manuals or reports that were written.”

The situation wasn't entirely analogous. After all, they were expanding onto the Surface now. Still, the dirt and stone above the mountain was just the same as the dirt and stone below it. And whether you were building on top of the mountain, or underneath it, most of the same rules still applied.

The first step would be to dig out a foundation, and from that foundation, their Home could grow.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The Royal Library had been enchanted to keep its contents perfectly preserved against decay or damage. It could have been a week or ten thousand years, and the papers stored within its many shelves would still be as crisp and pristine as the day they were first inked.

Of course, in certain cases, 'exactly as it was since it was made' was as much of a detriment as it was an advantage.

“i gotta say, tori, these are kind of a mouthful.” Sans, she had learned, was incapable of making any facial expression other than a grin; but Toriel could tell he would've been frowning, if he were able to. In his hands was one of the later instructional guides for 'basic geokinesis.' The queen faintly remembered reading this book, and then approving it for its intended use as an introductory training guide.

Three hundred years or more of linguistic drift had certainly not done this book any favors. She didn't remember it being quite so difficult to digest. The others would likely be even worse off, since they hadn't been written with the intent of being used in basic education.

“Indeed.” The queen frowned. “I'd say this book is about as difficult to crack open as a rock, but… is that not the point of reading it?”

Her friend laughed in response. “nice one. still, i can't imagine us teaching anyone from this.”

“Nor can I, but that is why I had wanted to gather up this material before announcing anything.” All things considered, linguistic drift was a fairly minor problem. The science was all still valid, in spite of being dated, and modernizing the books wouldn't be all that difficult.

Toriel sighed. “If I could ask you to get started on this? I have a speech to see to.”

The queen had half a mind to leave the whole speech to Asgore, but that wouldn't be proper. For better or worse, she was committed to ruling again, and that started with making her return public.

“got it. it's been a while since i've written anything, but i can work with this. good luck with your speech.”

“Thank you, Sans.”

Toriel set off, leaving the Scientist to his work.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The King had quite honestly forgotten what it felt like to look forward to giving an address, instead of fearing it and avoiding it.

Other versions of the address he was about to give, in particular, had been something of a mainstay in his nightmares as of late. Versions where he'd succeeded in killing seven humans, where he was meant to rally monster kind for a war charge, in advance of absorbing the power of seven souls and tearing down the Barrier.

Had it really only been a day ago, that he had been preparing to lead his kingdom back into war? Things had been moving so quickly that it still felt like lifetimes to Asgore. Not that he was complaining. He couldn't possibly be happier that the speech he'd been struggling to write could now be torn up and thrown away like the trash it was. No, instead, his queen had helped to prepare an entirely different speech for him.

And her speech, quite unlike his, didn't need to be given in full battle armor.

A sort of nervous energy had overcome him. He was practically bursting with excitement now, as his gaze flitted about the ballroom that they'd commandeered for a temporary broadcasting space. Mettaton and his film crew were twisting about in the background, adjusting cameras here and there, angling lights about. There wasn't time to put out the traditional calls for the citizenry to gather as one, and truth be told, Asgore was still rather disappointed about that.

They'd chosen the largest ballroom to broadcast from entirely on his direction. Mettaton had suggested that broadcasting from one of the drawing rooms would have been far simpler from a logistics standpoint, but having twenty percent of the citizenry attend this address live was still better than having none of it at all. Since Asgore had no intention of backing down on this front, Mettaton had relented fairly quickly and turned his impressive media arm towards getting as many monsters into this particular ballroom on short notice as they possibly could. Already, the room was beginning to look pleasantly crowded, and Asgore couldn't stop smiling.

Behind his left shoulder, Toriel stood, significantly less giddy. The queen's crown sat as easily on her head as it ever had, and the speech that she'd composed for them sounded every bit as though she'd been doing nothing but speech-writing for the past eighty years, but…

Even dulled by time and faded memory, Asgore still knew his old wife well enough to know that she was stressed, that she was here out of a sense of obligation alone and desperately wanted to be anywhere else.

Nobody else in all the kingdom would be able to tell, of course, and that was good enough for now. So Asgore chose to focus instead on the upcoming address, on trying to pick out faces in the crowd below him, and on the fact that monster kind's position was as good as it had ever been and was only improving with each passing day.

Mettaton had finally finished whatever last-minute adjustments had needed to be made, and was signaling Asgore now. Showtime.

The king of all monsters cleared his throat, and strode forward to the edge of the balcony that overlooked the rest of the ballroom.

“My fellow monsters.”

What little conversation had still been going on in the audience stopped, as everyone's focus shifted to Asgore.

“I am overjoyed to announce that our long struggle is finally over. As of yesterday, the Barrier that has kept us all imprisoned Underground has been broken! We are freed!”

A cheer erupted from the crowd, and the king made no moves to even try and quiet it. Nearly every single monster alive at this moment in time had been born in, raised in, and likely expecting to die in the Underground. The Surface was something so much more than a source of ancient memories from a time before the Barrier for them. It was a mythical, unknowable thing, spoken about the way pious humans used to speak about 'heaven.' Asgore would have been worried if the reaction to this announcement had been anything less than this roaring display of emotion.

Nearly a full minute passed before the king put up his paw, and the speech resumed.

“With the Barrier destroyed, the book on the Great War against all of humanity can finally be closed. Instead of continuing to write that bloody tale, it is my intention and the kingdom's intention to write a different tale. One of peace between monsters and humans, and of prosperous co-existence.”

“As we prepare to take our first steps through that gateway, we do so not as conquerors, but as friends. Though it will certainly be more difficult this way, unlimited opportunities now present themselves to us.”

Asgore took another moment to gather the rest of his thoughts. “Monster kind has always thrived as a collective. Together, we are capable of accomplishing far more than any of us alone. As we begin to expand our world past the walls that once defined it, I urge each and every one of you to remember that fact.”

Unbidden, thoughts of the human child that had made this speech possible floated through Asgore's head. He'd wanted to properly introduce Frisk to his kingdom as a part of this speech. Frisk had seemed reluctant, though, and so the official introduction of their Royal Ambassador had been pushed back to another speech. It couldn't be put off forever, but it could be put off for just a little while longer.

Still…

“Remember also that humanity is a vast and diverse people. Though we cannot hope to befriend each and every human we encounter, we should never stop trying. Though we will certainly clash with others on the surface, we should remember that not all fights must end in violence, and that peace is always an option. It is through a human's friendship, after all, that I am able to stand here and deliver this speech to you today.”

Now, there was just thing left for him to say. “The government has been preparing a set of policies to govern that expansion, policies which are being implemented immediately. For all the details on those policies, I'd like to re-introduce everyone to the Queen of All Monsters. Toriel, if you would?”

The King and Queen exchanged places on the balcony. As they moved, Mettaton's sound coordinator – Blooky, wasn't it? – flipped some switches that shut Asgore's microphone off and turned Toriel's microphone on. Technology sure was amazing! Gone were the days of a held microphone that you had to pass from one speaker to the next. Why, the speakers didn't even need to look at each other during the exchange anymore!

There would be no more mishaps such as the 'King Fluffybuns' incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had a good chunk of Toriel's part of the speech written up, but couldn't really fit it in without giving up on using those particular ending lines. Instead, for the curious, here's the first part of her speech:  
> 
>
>> “Thank you, Asgore.” Toriel spoke, voice projecting out to the kingdom, eyes fixed on the main camera and turned away from him. “Rest assured, each and every monster now has the choice to venture to the surface. Know, however, that there will be hard work involved should you choose to join us on our Second Expansion Effort. We'll divide into large teams, based on the following needs...”
> 
>   
> Also, I want to take a moment to direct everyone reading this over to [Ugly, Wasted Effort](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5127101), which inspired Mettaton's little crisis of confidence. (I hadn't actually thought about the 'scared of humanity's [possible non-]reaction to him' angle until I read it.) It's great! Everyone should read it really quick once you're done here. 


End file.
